


[Rec.]

by TheCapable22



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 03:09:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8732464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCapable22/pseuds/TheCapable22
Summary: Hey there y'all! I'm back! I've got another Creepypasta to share with ya, and I hope y'all enjoy it!
;)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there y'all! I'm back! I've got another Creepypasta to share with ya, and I hope y'all enjoy it!
> 
> ;)

There is static on the screen as the person holding the camera shifts their position. Wooden floorboards can be heard creaking loudly, and there is a somewhat clear shot of the ceiling.

Then, the person turns the camera back around to their face. 

It is a brown-haired boy in his late teens, wearing a green T-shirt and a pair of glasses. As the camera records, he rubs his eyes and yawns loudly. 

He looks down at the camera, and seems surprised that it's on.

"Good," he says, obviously relieved,"I was worried it ran out of battery. Okay, I don't have much time, but there's something I nee-"

There is a loud crash from somewhere outside, and the teen jumps, his eyes widening. 

About a minute passes before he makes another sound. 

"Sorry about that," he apologizes, his voice is considerably quieter than it was before. "I can't let it hear me."

He rubs his eyes again. 

"A few weeks ago, I came here to take care of my grandparent's house while they went on vacation. Now, this place is in the middle of nowhere, so I figured I wouldn't have to worry about people robbing the place. But in the first couple days, things would go missing -- I'd find them eventually, but they would be in a completely different place than where I left them." He pauses again, probably listening. When there is no sound, and he feels comfortable, he continues. 

"For example, my grandmother's favorite coat went missing on the third day. I found it the very next day; it was in the closet, exactly where it was before I noticed it was gone. But it was ripped to shreds. I think that's when I first started to think that something was wrong with this place. I've been visiting this house since I was a baby, but these things never happened before now. I know because I used to spend the entire summer here, and nothing like this ever happened." The boy stops again, and this time, there are faint footsteps outside the window.

"I'm on the second floor," he says, more to himself than the camera. "I'll be okay."

He yawns again before continuing. 

"As I was saying, some weird stuff took place in the house. But it was yesterday morning that really scared me. By the way, I'm not talking about ghosts or demons here, I think someone else is living in the house! Anyway, yesterday morning, I came downstairs for breakfast, and I there a bowl of cereal on the table -- milk and everything! I think someone must have been eating it, because when I touched the bowl, the milk was still cold, like someone had just taken it from the fridge!" He cringes when his voice gets too loud. 

"And right now," he says, "right now, I can see someone outside the window." 

As he says this, he flips the camera around to the window, pointing it down towards the ground.  
It's very dark outside, and it takes a moment for the camera to adjust to the darkness and focus in on a lone figure just below the window. 

It appears to be a man, he wear a black suit with barely distinguishable red tie. He has abnormally long arms and legs and a very small head. He is so tall, his head brushes against the lower boughs of the Oak tree he's standing under. 

"He's been standing there for almost two hours, and he hasn't moved once." The boy says, fear starting to creep into his voice. 

"I've locked myself in the master bedroom," he goes on to say, his eyes shifting nervously around the room. "I found this camera in the closet with some batteries; I'm glad this thing still works." 

A loud crash comes from outside. 

"Wait!" The teen cries, "You can't come in! I wasn't done with my story yet!" Go away!"

The boy continues to shriek his protests at the door, where the sound had come from, but his voice was drowned out like a single chirping insect sitting next to the Niagra Falls. 

Across the room, there is a pounding on the door, and it shakes dangerously under the force of the blows. 

The boy drops the camera and shoots to his feet, making to run to the window as a way of escape. 

However, at the same moment, the locked bedroom door finally succumbs to the onslaught inflicted upon it, and it could be heard as it was smashed to pieces as the intruder forced his way into the room. 

The boy looks up, his hands are on the window sill as he has just opened the window, but there isn't enough time for him to run.

Before he can even climb halfway out the window, the . . . thing, whatever it was, it grabbed the boy and harshly tore him away from the window sill, with the boy screaming at the top of his lungs the whole time. 

The Thing threw the boy to the floor, and even though the audio on the camera was pretty rough-cut, there was an audible crack as the boy's body hit the floor.

The Thing stepped back from the crumpled mess, seemingly surveying its work, when it noticed the camera, which was still recording on the floor of the bedroom. The Thing made its way over to the device, and simply began staring intently at it. However, as soon as The Thing turned towards he camera, a horrific discovery was made. The Thing had no face. 

As The Thing continues to stare at the camera, the image on the screen begins to flicker between blackness and displaying the hellish scene. 

After a few more seconds, the camera's image finally fizzled out to a black, empty screen. The last bit of footage it had been able to capture was of The Thing standing over the boy's broken, mangled form.

➰

The video tape ejected from the VCR, and the Judge plucked it from the small tv daintily, before folding her hands in her lap. 

"Alright, what do we know." She asked, addressing the assembled authorities. 

"Well," began a decorated police officer, reading from a startlingly thin file, "Jason DuGard disappeared on May 16th of last year while house-sitting for his grandparents Heather and George. There were no signs of a struggle in the house, and some personal belongings were missing from the house, which leads us to believe that he has run away."

"Are you out of your mind?!" Screeched a disgruntled-looking woman. She had glasses and dark brown hair. "My son is missing! Did you not see what was on the tape?!"

"Yes, ma'am, we all did, but we have no way of knowing whether or not the footage is real!" The judge argued defensively. 

"It's true," says the police officer. "When we searched the house, there were no signs of a struggle, the door to the bedroom was not kicked in, and the window wasn't open."

The courtroom is eerily silent for a moment as the information slowly sinks in, but it is eventually broken by Jason's mother abruptly bursting into tears. Looks of sympathy were aimed at the mother from everywhere in the room. 

The judge looked depressingly resigned, like she had absolutely no idea what to do. 

"Alright," she says, very quietly. "We'll keep searching for your son, ma'am, but I doubt that anything will come of it. We've already searched seven surrounding states with no results to show for it. The only thing we can do is keep looking, and hope that the poor boy is still alive somewhere . . ."

➰


End file.
